What I Want (For Christmas)
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: Takes place the Christmas after The Empty Hearse which never was covered on the show. Sherlock and Molly are pining and an unlikely matchmaker emerges to set things right. Sherlolly Secret Santa Gift for yourdistinguishedglitterstudent on tumblr.
1. Pining

**Just to clear things up: TEH happened in November of 2014 and His Last Vow's Christmas was 2015 timeline-wise since the Watsons were married in the Spring.**

* * *

Molly sighed deeply. It was almost December. Sherlock hadn't even been back for a month, and yet, he was already plaguing her thoughts. She bit her bottom lip as her fingers twisted the engagement ring this way and that as if it would make her feel differently if it hit the light just right. It wasn't long before she had given up the fight. She knew her heart would always belong to Sherlock Holmes—not the famous detective who hid behind the façade of a high functioning sociopath, but the real, flesh and blood man who shared his heart with her.

Speaking of, the detective swept through the doors to the morgue just as Molly switched the radio on. The chorus of Mariah Carey's 'All I Want for Christmas is You' echoed throughout the room, leaving Molly no choice but to laugh at the coincidence. Though she hadn't notice, Sherlock was watching her with an amused look.

"Something funny?" he asked, unable to keep his lopsided smile off his face.

Molly wasn't sure how to answer without giving herself away. "Inside joke…"

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"…with myself," she clarified. Wanting to change the subject, she turned the questioning on him. "How are you adjusting? Being back in London and all."

A surge of affection for his pathologist welled up inside him. "Well, it hasn't been easy," Sherlock confessed. "Change is annoyingly difficult." _Including your engagement_, he thought. Had he not been an honorable man when it came to loyalty, Sherlock wouldn't have held himself back from snogging her in the stairwell. So, why did he find himself inching closer toward her?

She nodded, empathetic to his struggle. "Look, if you never need an escape from it all, I have a guest room you can use." What was she saying? And, goodness, he was getting awfully close to her. It began to feel warm in the lab…or maybe it was just her face turning every shade of red.

A wistful look reached his eyes, not unlike the one that appeared before the cheek kiss that nearly landed on her lips. Sherlock was taken by surprise when Molly had him wrapped up in a warm embrace. Much to both their surprise, he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her petite frame. "Thank you, Molly." His voice was soft as velvet.

For the first time since his return, Molly allowed herself this one moment of honesty, coming out in a whisper. "I missed you."

* * *

Thomas Barnes may not have been the smartest guy in the world—especially not when Sherlock Holmes was around—but he knew there was something between Molly and the detective. Anyone with eyes could see that. They had been friends for years before he came into the picture, and anybody would be relieved to see that their friend was alive and safe after all. Whatever those two had ran deeper than that, though neither of them seemed to realise it.

As he saw his fiancée hugging the detective, Tom didn't feel jealous or scorned. He felt sorry for them. He knew that Molly loved him, but she wasn't in love with him. No. She was in love with Sherlock Holmes, and possibly completely oblivious to the fact. Tom did love her, but he knew Molly closed parts of herself off to him.

He moved quickly out from behind the glass, going down towards the morgue. Once Tom rounded the corner, he nearly collided with Sherlock Holmes who appeared to be momentarily surprised at his appearance.

"Mister Holmes," Tom laughed lightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were coming this way."

The detective was noticeably uncomfortable. "Quite alright…Tom?" He cleared his throat. "Well, I must be going. I was just checking on an experiment Molly was helping with."

Sherlock stalked off down the hall, but stopped short before going out the doors. "And one more thing..."—he turned to face Tom—"…Don't let her down. She deserves every happiness."

Tom found it interesting that Sherlock had felt the need to assure him nothing inappropriate had been happening. And nothing was. A hug between friends, though it probably meant more than it appeared on the surface, was nothing to get suspicious about. There was a look in the detective's eyes that he couldn't quite place, but he knew the man must be heartbroken. And then Tom made up his mind. He'd need to keep up appearances until the last possible moment if it was going to work. He was going to help bring them together.

* * *

The guilt was eating her alive. She loved Tom, but her heart would always belong to Sherlock. She was irrevocably in love with Sherlock, but his timing sucked. Molly noticed the way he danced around the truth in the stairwell. It damn near killed her to watch him walk away. But it was the right thing…wasn't it? Here were two men who loved her and she was tearing them both apart. With Tom, she knew she was holding back. Deep in her subconscious, she felt like she'd be betraying Sherlock if she opened herself up completely to Tom. At the same time, it wasn't fair to her fiancé; she knew that.

"Hi, Molly," Tom smiled, breaking her out of her reverie. "I saw Sherlock…"

Molly froze.

"…Is everything alright?"

She laughed out of relief. "It's alright. He's just struggling with everything that's changed since he's been…well, gone."

"Remember when you told me you had always wanted to throw a Christmas party at your flat?" Tom asked.

Molly nodded. "Yeah, but we never got around to talking 'bout it. I thought we were going to your parents' for Christmas?"

Tom considered this. "We'll just have the party the weekend before!"

A smile began to bloom across Molly's face. "So…we're actually doing this? I've got to invite John and Mary, and Greg! Anderson would like to come as well, and oh! Mrs. Hudson!"

Tom noted the one exclusion. "Yes, and Sherlock as well!"

Her face fell. "He's not much interested in Christmas parties; trust me, I know from experience."

It made him curious. What happened at that Christmas party from Sherlock and Molly's past? Tom figured the best way to get Molly on board was to present things differently. "Well, we should at least invite him to let him know he's always welcome."

Molly bit her lip anxiously as she thought on it. "You're right; it would be the kind thing to do." Her smile returned. "I need to start planning! I'll see you later!"

She ran off to her office, making the necessary phone calls. Tom was satisfied with how well things appeared to be going. Hopefully, it would all work out.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Surprise! Tom's character isn't being turned into an ass for once lol


	2. What He Wants

Molly looked around the room knowing she had outdone herself. It looked as if her sitting room was transformed into what it felt like to be inside a Christmas tree. Garland and fairy lights adorned every possible surface, giving off a romantic glow. The tree in the corner had gifts aplenty beneath it, the branches decorated with tinsel and shiny baubles. Everyone had RSVP'd—well, everyone except for Sherlock, but she tried not to let that upset her.

When Tom walked through the door, Molly jumped feeling as if she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to do. God, this was torture. She swore her heart was trying to kill her, ironically enough. He carried a bag of decorations in his gloved hand.

"Though we could use a few more finishing touches," he explained. "Like…" Tom pulled out, much to Molly's horror, "…mistletoe!"

"Um, don't you think that's a little much?" she asked, now biting her lip. Nausea overcame her. She hadn't a clue why it bothered her; it wasn't as if Sherlock was actually going to show. It would be fine.

"Nonsense, Molls!" Tom exclaimed. "Mistletoe adds a bit of romance…sometimes unexpectedly."

Molly watched as he hung it in the archway leading to the kitchen. The counter was filled with all sorts of goods that she had spent the last two days baking. The mistletoe had reminded her that she and Tom hadn't kissed in, well, weeks. Not properly, anyways. There were cheek kisses and the occasional top of the head kiss, but he hadn't dared touch her lips. Yet the only part of the situation that brought on clarity was the fact she hadn't even noticed until now. And wasn't he the one that was so insistent on inviting Sherlock?

"Tom, what exactly are you doing?" she asked.

He looked at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. "I don't know what you mean."

She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You haven't really kissed me since—" That's when it hit her. "Since you probably saw me hugging Sherlock in the morgue. Tom, nothing is going on between me and Sherlock."

He laughed. He was laughing at her. "Molly, I know you didn't do anything."

She was utterly confused. "Then what exactly are you getting at?"

Tom dropped the other decorations onto the sofa, walking towards her. "I was hoping I'd be able to keep this secret longer, but Molly, I can't allow you to marry me." He slipped the ring from her finger.

The relief in her eyes was apparent, though her eyebrows knit together in bafflement. "I don't—Tom, what's going on?"

But Molly never found out what he was up to, as John and Mary arrived, walking through the door. This was going to be a long evening.

* * *

Sherlock Holmes stared himself down in the mirror. He was dressed impeccably in his usual attire, his aubergine shirt peeking out from underneath his suit jacket. He knew it was Molly's favourite colour on him. What was he doing? She was engaged and safe in the hands of that man. All that mattered is that she remains safe and happy. She was happy…wasn't she?

It would be rude to not stop by. In fact, both she and Tom had invited him. His mind was made up. He would make an appearance, but he would not be staying longer than an hour. That was all he knew he could manage.

He slipped on his scarf and coat, glancing back at himself one more time in the mirror. "Once more unto the breach."

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Sherlock knocked upon the door. What he saw took his breath away. Molly stood there in ruby red flats and an emerald green chiffon midi dress with a ruffled skirt and a bow tied in the front just a couple inches below her breasts. Her dark hair had been left down in tantalizing waves. She was gorgeous. A sharp pain ached in his chest.

Molly looked alarmed. "Sherlock," she smiled with a radiance as bright as the midday sun. " Come in! I didn't think you'd show." If Tom was trying to push her towards Sherlock, she certainly wasn't going to fight against it. She was exhausted from fighting her heart. For once, she would allow herself to give in.

"I thought I'd stop by," he smiled back. "Oh, um…" Sherlock searched the inside pocket of his coat, retrieving a small, neatly wrapped package. "This…is for you."

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. Sherlock never gave gifts to anybody. Everyone had been acting so strange lately. In fact, it felt as if everyone's eyes were on her. Molly checked behind her shoulder to make sure it wasn't the case. John and Greg were talking with Anderson, and Mrs. Hudson and Mary stood by Tom who was looking toward her every so often. Okay, so she was just paranoid. Great.

"Thank you," she told him, "but you really didn't have to get me anything." Why was this so difficult? She could hardly form a sentence around him. And God help her, he was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in his world.

"I wanted to," he assured her. She made no move to take the gift, so he kept it in his coat pocket for safekeeping. Sherlock couldn't help but notice the deep red colour staining her lips. And then he tried to imagine how they would fit against his own; how he would kiss her if he had the chance. And, wow, it was getting toasty in here. For once, he was thankful for the interruption that occurred.

"Sherlock," Tom smiled, extending his hand toward him. "Glad you could make it!"

"Ah, well, yes," Sherlock replied, "I couldn't let Molly down."

"Well, come on, have a drink!" Tom exclaimed.

"I better not, I—"

"He doesn't usually drink alcohol—it messes with his thought process," Molly explained. "But perhaps a dessert?"

Tom perked up. "Yes, of course, there are plenty of desserts! Molly baked them herself." What was that one that Sherlock liked again? "Uh, she made ginger nuts—she says they're your favourite!"

Sherlock couldn't keep the smile off his face when he looked over at Molly. She apparently talked about him a lot. "I suppose a few would be alright."

"Great!" exclaimed Tom. "It's just through the kitchen." He said this, noting the mistletoe he had hung there not long ago. He hoped that this would work.

Heading toward the kitchen with Molly, Sherlock said hello to everyone. He was much more cordial this time around compared to the last Christmas party. That one had gone disastrously. The scent of the baked goods grew stronger the closer they were, and then Mary piped up before they had a chance to enter the kitchen.

"Look who's under the mistletoe," she teased. And sure enough, as they both looked up, mistletoe was indeed in their presence.

Sherlock felt a rising panic. "Mary, you know full well she's engaged. That would be inappropriate."

"Oh, go on, Sherlock," Tom encouraged him.

WAIT. Tom was telling him to kiss his fiancée? What was in those drinks? Sherlock was utterly confused. And poor Molly was so red, she could have been a decoration on a Christmas tree.

Molly pinched the bridge of her nose, now fully aware of what Tom was trying to tell her before John and Mary interrupted them. He was trying to set them up. He knew how she felt about Sherlock.

Sherlock turned his attention to Molly, noticing it was her left hand pinching her nose. He also couldn't help but notice there was no longer a ring adorning her finger. Throwing caution to the wind, he pulled her in close, taking her by surprise. He cradled her face gently with one hand whilst he held onto her waist with the other. He leaned closer, softly brushing his lips across hers.

She was melting into him…in front of everyone. At this point, Molly didn't care. Tom wanted to break things off just to play matchmaker? Match made. She nudged his nose with hers, encouraging him, and finally his lips were pressed firmly against hers, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth. Sherlock wanted to taste more of her, but he had to get a grip on himself with others around them still. Breaking their unexpectedly passionate kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"It's about bloody time!" shouted Greg whilst the others cheered.

"I knew it," Anderson repeated. "I told you, but did anyone listen? Noooo."

"You're no longer engaged." It was all Sherlock could think to say at the moment.

Molly smiled. "It appears I'm not."

"Would you like to be engaged again?" he asked, a knowing smile on his face.

"Oh my God," Mary half-whispered, sharing her joy with Anderson.

"What?" Molly was dumbfounded. "Sherlock, I—" His eyes never left hers, gazing at her adoringly. Regardless of how fast this appeared to be moving, she knew there was never going to be anyone else but the man standing in front of her. "It was always you."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and whispered in her ear. "Open your gift, then." Sherlock pulled it from within his coat pocket and this time, Molly took it. Beneath the wrapping, there was a small wooden box with a painted anatomical heart on the lid. Opening the box, she revealed a lovely diamond set in a rose gold band. On either side beneath the jewel, two miniature skulls resided. A few smaller diamonds cascaded down the side of the ring beneath each skull.

Molly lifted her head, looking up into his eyes. "Would you?" she requested. He complied without hesitation.

As he slid the ring on her left hand, he spoke softly. "Even in death, we will never part."

The others cheered once more, happy for their friends. Tom was alarmed by the morbid Christmas it turned out to be, but then again, he supposed you couldn't avoid it when Sherlock and Molly were in the room. He had to admit, they understood each other in ways nobody else did. And that was okay. They were clearly made for one another.

Molly realised there was one thing that made absolutely no sense to her. "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" he replied as he kissed her once more.

"Don't you think it was a bit risky gifting me a ring for Christmas? I mean, to your knowledge I was still engaged to Tom," she questioned.

This made him chuckle. "I thought I'd present another option to you; it's only fair if you know all of your choices."

"Is that so?" she was calling him out on his fib. "That doesn't seem like you. You're usually prepared no matter the situation."

Sherlock sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine, there were two gifts. I only brought the ring in case I had another chance. After all, I did muck it up last time I tried."

"Last time? When was this? I think I'd remember you proposing," she pointed out.

"I was going to in the stairwell that day, but then I noticed your ring before the words could come out," he admitted.

Molly shook her head in amusement. "You're an idiot," she laughed, "but you're my idiot." And she couldn't wait to spend the rest of her life with him. A thought occurred to her then. "Sherlock?"

"Hm?"

"What do you want for Christmas? I'm afraid I had nothing prepared for you this year." Molly worried at her lip.

"What I want for Christmas, Molly, is you," he smiled. "Only you."

* * *

**Author's Note:** The End! Short & Sweet! I've been writing so much during the past couple of weeks lol! I hope y'all enjoyed!


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